Heads Or Tails (Unfinished)

Chapter One: Roommate Blues

Dedicated to lilybacon36, because if it weren't for her, i probably wouldn't have updated.

Chapter One:

I looked up at my dorms in awe. Honestly, I grew up in the part of Brooklyn where you get that awesome accent in, also meaning it's sort of like the ghetto in the sense that it's where they put all the low-income families. So looking at the dorms at Harvard was like I'd went on a field trip. I can't believe I'm going to be living here for the foreseeable future. My guide handed me one of those scannable room keys.

"Your dorm is room 248, please unpack promptly, as orientation starts at 10:30 sharp, and tardiness is unacceptable. Are we clear?"

Ah, and reality comes back to bite me. I almost forgot I'm in snob-ass central.I'm a part of the minority, and minority people here are either like me, a scholarship kid who's dreading dealing with the rest of the school, plastic bimbos and asshole jocks who have parents with deep pockets, or the employees who are really just like the scholarship kids, but because they have their uniforms on, they think they're better than us anyway. I was dealing with the latter.

"I am quite sure that it is only your position to direct me to my dorm, not patronize me sarcastically. We both know I am here because of my intellectual capacity, not my parent's trust fund, so you should be able to infer that I would be able to understand the tone of your voice. So can you please resume your professional role, and I won't report your insubordinance to your boss, hmm?"

I smirked as I watched their face turn from patronizing to beet-red in embarrassment. I notice that there was a new student and their guide behind us, and the guide was trying very hard to suppress his laughter. Not. The student with him was a guy. As a girl, you can't blame me for looking him up and down. But the more I saw, the less I wanted to. Sure, he was hot, but that's where the good attributes ended. He was wearing a football team jacket, which meant he was probably going to try out for the team, which in my opinion all the guys on them are jack-asses, so he already had a demerit in my book. Then, he was in the middle of checking me out when I looked at him, so he probably had some man-whore tendencies. To top it all frigging off, he was asking his guide a question, and when the guide replied, he took a bundle of hundred-dollar bills and showed it to the guide. A whole frigging bundle of them! He probably spends more money in one week than I've seen in my entire life. Bad enough I'm going to be living with snobs, now they're going to be waving money right in front of my face. His guide's eyes widened, but then they shook their head no in response to whatever jack-ass said. Go guide, show him not everyone is bribable! Make no mistake though, I'm still mad. I turned to my guide and snapped,

"Room number?"

in an aggravated tone, not feeling like acknowledging the fact that she had already told me it. That bastard had just totally ruined my good mood. "248." She answered meekly. Looks like I shook her up more than expected. The guy leans over to his guide and said something, and when his guide replied him, a smirk spread across his face. Honestly, he needs to learn to smile without looking like a pedophile. Both of our guides wished us good luck, and then hightailed it out of there.

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Can you guess which two new students are going to be the main subject of conversation in the employee dining area tonight? Please note the sarcasm. So, I started to move towards the dorm building, probably looking completely out of place dragging a 10-year old cliché suitcase covered in fake travel stickers, down the manicured pathway.

"Hey," the idiot behind me said, lazily looking me up and down like I wasn't trying to suppress my urge to bitch slap him upside the head.

"What?" I snapped, turning to look at this guy I had barely known for, like, 10 minutes, and was already majorly pissing me off.

"Just trying to see if a beautiful lady needed any help with her suitcase." He smirked, and started to reach for the handle of my trunk, and I was one millisecond away from drop kicking him. Am I too violent? Meh. I'll save the self-reflection for later.

"Did I say yes?" He finally put a look on his face that wasn't a smirk, in this case he looked confused. Aww, is this the first time a girl has turned him down? He ain't met nobody like me!

"I don't suppose you're going to enjoy playing hard to get with me, so I suggest you just give it up already!" Yeah, I'm totally playing hard to get. And Godzilla is my best friend. And he's the bouncer for my nightclub. And I told him so.

"If I wanted to throw myself at you like the sluts who you surround yourself with, I already would have. So you need to realize that not everyone worships the ground that you tread on." He finally looked pissed off. Thank god, he's somewhat human after all. Finally, a nerve I can strike! They do have brains somewhere in the mass of what they call muscles! Honestly, I think it's just hardened fat.

"You don't know me, and haven't you ever heard the term 'don't judge a book by its cover'?" He thinks that's going to stop me? He has apparently never felt the wrath of a nerd.

"Yes, and I respect that saying very much. However, you can't consider yourself a book, as you barely have a big enough vocabulary to converse with a kindergarten child, let alone a legal adult who is probably obviously a scholarship student. So why don't you find someone with your level of intellect."

He stood there gaping at me. Honestly, I don't think he's fully finished processing the words I just threw at him. It's my turn to start smirking. I return to dragging my suitcase up the walkway.

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I managed to drag my suitcase up to the sixth floor, because they decided to make the entire fucking first floor a common area. And since my suitcase wouldn't fit in the elevator, I had to take the service stairs. By the time I got to my floor, I probably bore some resemblance to a grizzly bear: growling at anything that passed, and hunched over.

When I got to dorm room 248, I took a couple seconds to stare in blatant awe. I mean, growing up in the Bronx is pretty fun. No rules. No police. And best of all, I could be snorting a mixture of shit and cocaine and no one would look twice. Not that I do.

But luxury also means you get a gold-plated door number, while the door looks like its solid cherry oak. I have a friend who is majoring in interior design, and she says cherry oak is like the platinum of all the woods. "Hey, guess we're roomies." Sounds like a guy, cocky tone... it can't be fucktard, can it? I turned around slowly, wanting to savour possibly my last moments of happiness for a long time. I open my eyes, and I feel myself cringe, because there he is:

The bastardly asshat of a fucktard.